The nights on the edge were much quieter than they were on Berk. After all, there were only six inhabitants there, not counting dragons of course. Nights on the main island were usually filled with the sounds of sleepless people bickering, farm animals calling out to each other, dragons quacking and hissing at each other as they either try to find a place to sleep or only start to wake up… The village was full of life no matter the hour, perhaps because people were still not quite used to the fact that they could sleep at night without putting up special watchers to prepare for a dragon ride—should it happen. Old habits die hard, especially ones that were passed on as a tradition for over 300 years just on Berk, and even longer in the previous settlement from which the Hooligan tribe came from.
It was really no wonder that sometimes when the Gang couldn't sleep, they would try to fill the silence. It was a surprise for Fishlegs when he first walked in on Snotlout singing, so was it for Astrid when she found the Twins playing a simple sound game in Barf and Belch's stable. Hiccup didn't comment on it when Fishlegs would sometimes knock on the door to his hut and ask if he could take a few of his books or notes journals only to hear him read them aloud in his garden, and Snotlout wouldn't ever spill that he taught Astrid how to crochet to pass the time of the sleepless nights with the loud clacking of the needless.
Hiccup made the most noise out of all of them. Perhaps that's why he usually spent those sleepless nights flying above the ocean far away from any living soul or locked in the workshop, with every wall soundproofed as best as possible. At least his screams of frustration and general helplessness never reached anyone else.
He slept the worst when others slept the best, after actions, after each battle. The Gang rested, happy that the plans succeeded, meanwhile Hiccup agonized over what he could have done better, about what should have been obvious to him but wasn't, about each mistake. They were his fault, after all, he was the leader, the one responsible for others.
And now there he was, blaming himself for the most recent nearly-loss. Snotlout could have died, and it was pure luck that saved him, if only Hiccup sent the Twins instead of him they would get out of the trap with ease and Snotlout would do better with that manoeuvre needed to access the—
"Hey Hiccup, can't sleep either?" he barely heard her over the sound of hitting metal, but there she was. Astrid looked horrible if he was being honest, dark circles under her eyes and skin turned pale… She probably had a nightmare and followed the sound of him fixing the equipment. The walls needed another layer of soundproofing.
"Yeah… I'm just, you know…" he focused his attention on the hammer and fiddled with it. He always felt calmer when he could keep his hands busy.
"You were whining," Astrid immediately went for the throat. She didn't do small talk. "And screaming." He let go of the hammer in realization. He did it again. Without noticing. Astrid circled around him and put her hands on his shoulders. He didn't know what to say. The thought about soundproofing the forge better entered his mind again and buzzed loudly, demanding attention from his tired brain. "Hiccup… it wasn't your fault. You did everything you could, we all did. Your plan wasn't foolproof, sure, but no plan is."
He couldn't look her in the eyes. He just picked up the hammer again and went back to remodelling the skeleton of dragonfly to be more aerodynamic… or something. His thoughts didn't make sense, they were all jumbled, one started in the middle of the other, nonsensical, faulty, so so stupid—
"Hey, hey now, it's fine," Astrid delicately pressed his head to her chest as he started whining again, half hugging him in the process. "Shhhhh... It's alright, we're all alright…" She gently pried the hammer from his fingers and held his hand as it curled around nothing.
He was still fidgety, filled with the need to get the excess anxious energy out… but Astrid could always stop him before he went too far. She was a blessing from the gods, his anchor in the storm of his confusing emotions.
How has she put up with him, he had no idea.
"Thank you," he whispered between the sounds getting out of his throat uncontrollably. "Thank you for… stopping me."
"I knew you would go on forever," her laugh was like a Terror's song, rough and scratch, and one of the most pleasant sounds in the world. He hummed alongside it, the previous fit of noises forgotten. "Hiccup," she sounded more uncertain now, a little weary. "I want you to rest. And I want to rest too... You get where I'm going?"
He nodded once. Not sleeping alone at night like that sounded like a good idea.